


I wait (and wait, and wait)

by Lilac_Nightshade



Series: (amaranthine) [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Major Character Death if you missed the warnings, One-sided MakoRin if you squint, Please don't hate me OTL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilac_Nightshade/pseuds/Lilac_Nightshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shovels; they kept digging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I wait (and wait, and wait)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt: http://makoharuheadcanon.tumblr.com/post/84426709912/i-have-a-headcanon-that-if-makoto-died-on-the-beach
> 
> (I have a headcanon that if Makoto died on the beach, Haru does not cry at the funeral, not when the burry him, and not as people give him their condolences. He cries the next morning as he waits to be picked up from the tub.)
> 
> I took the chance and ran away with it ;-;

It was a dumb idea.

It had always been a dumb idea, but he supposed he was dumber, for not being able to see it.

In order to prepare for preliminaries, Gou; sweet, zealously-driven, absolutely ignorantly innocent Gou, had suggested a training camp. Of course, with the state of their practically non-existent budget, it was impossible for them to swim in an indoor pool. And, since it was during the holidays, they were not allowed to use the school facilities. The rules were absolute; even the long-favoured judo club were not immune; Haruka had overheard the captain of the judo team grumbling about expenses of renting a proper training hall.

Of course, she just had to find that old tattered piece of training schedule. _Of course,_ the location had to be a beach. _Of course,_ it was so convenient that Nagisa jumped on the idea, pulling Rei along, and with their collective puppy eyes, managed to win Makoto over. And, well, what a _happy_ coincidence that Makoto's family were basically experts in outdoor living and camping.

The shovels; they kept digging.

* * *

 

Only Rin and Haruka knew that Makoto was afraid of the water. Haruka knew because he was the cause, and Rin knew because he saw. Rin saw, and ran away.

No one could blame Rin for acting so selfishly; they were fifth graders after all, and the death of a loved one was enough to scar Rin for life; he didn't need another death etched into his eyeballs.

At least, he came back, armed with the teeth to adults and the paramedics, his tiny face overflowing with silent tears.

And Haruka was, indeed, close to crossing River Styx that day. He had a fever, and yet he still jumped into the ice-cold river, in the middle of autumn, to retrieve a scarf. He was delirious and barely holding on when Makoto fished him out, his eyes wide with fear and despair, and luckily there were adults nearby who heard the commotion and rushed over to check, and there was Rin, the silent watcher, who had brought extra help. It was a close call, and since then, seeds of aquaphobia rooted themselves into Makoto's psyche, and refused to go away, even as they confronted old ghosts and chased old fears and insecurities like storm chasers.

The shovels; they kept digging.

* * *

 

Makoto had pet goldfishes given to him by an old, friendly fisherman by the sea. Haruka remembered the shine in those green eyes as he spoke animatedly about the fishes swimming so gracefully in the round bowl. 

But then, the fisherman died in a storm, taking away so many lives, including Rin's father's. Soon after, by an ironic twist of fate, the goldfishes died too, their white bellies facing the ceiling as they flipped over and died in their watery home.

It was then Makoto knew about proper aeration, how far a proper air pump could have helped, and of course, the fact that yes, even fishes die in water, not just humans, who, using Rei’s words, evolved to live on land instead of the water.

Haruka would have liked to made a joke about how his grandmother had also passed in the comforts of her ancestral house, in her room, if only to make Makoto feel better, but Makoto had always been the one to voice his thoughts.

* * *

 

Even now, as he gripped the handful of dirt with a bruising grip, he remained silent, when Makoto's parents were decked in black and white with Mrs. Tachibana trembling as choked sobs escaped her from time to time and Mr. Tachibana, with his head bowed as he struggled to keep his tears in, though Haruka saw a few tears shining at the edges of his green, green eyes; when Nagisa had tried to offer a speech on behalf of all of them, about how Makoto will be missed and and and- he never heard the end of it as Nagisa became inconsolable and broke down in tears and had to be led off by Rei; when even Rin went for the service, standing a little ways from them, watching the proceedings with a sort-of horrified expression, very much reminiscent of the time he saw Haruka drown, with his face overflowing with silent tears, armed to the teeth with his angry barbs and wistful regrets, punching Haruka after the service, much to the anguish of others, for being _absolutely useless what are you doing Nanase Haruka you are a swimmer aren't you why didn't you_ —

He did not return the punch, did not even bother to retaliate as Rin managed to tackle him to the ground and readied himself for another punch before he was pulled away by Nitori and Mikoshiba. Gou helped him up, apologizing furiously on behalf of her brother, her words choking in her throat as tears overflowed and Haruka ended up having to console her as she buried her face into his shoulder.

The service began in the late afternoon, and Haruka remained by the tombstone, nestled within a small alcove with a small running brook and flowers and grass.

Evening came, night came.

People came, people left.

Haruka was the last to leave, together with Makoto’s parents, only because they were worried for his safety if they had let him continue staying beside the grave, eyes hard and dry.

Past the ocean, the accursed ocean, alone.

Up the shrine steps, alone.

He did not cry, not even once.

* * *

 

The next few days passed by in a blur, which Haruka could not really remember. Somehow, he managed to eat and bathe and stay alive, thanks to the constant care that Makoto’s mother gave him, despite having to deal with her grief as well.

He did not remember what he was eating, but he apparently he did eat.

He did not remember entering the water, but apparently he did bathe.

He slept a lot, and Rei helped him notify the teacher that he was in no condition to take lessons. A classmate, Haruka did not remember who, left his homework in the mailbox.

Nagisa sometimes came by, uncharacteristically silent, just to sit with Haruka in the living room, whittling the hours away. They started doing homework together after a week and Nagisa went back to school, and the small gesture of comfort eased the passing of time a little. It was still uncomfortable, however, seeing a petite body frame across the table instead of a large body frame that sometimes blocked out the light, with his impressive wingspan.

Blonde, instead of comfortable brown.

Wide, soulless pink, instead of soft, vibrant green.       
  
Rin did not even contact him at all. Haruka supposed that he had finally done it, made Rin hate him, because Rin was always the only one, apart from himself, who worried about Makoto. 

He did not cry, not even once.

* * *

 

Two weeks after the service, he made an instantaneous decision to go back to school. Really, it was a on-the-spur-of-the-moment thing. 

Waking up at six in the morning, completing the remnants of his homework, packing his schoolbag, brushing his teeth, changing out from his sleeping clothes into his swimming jammers, he did it seamlessly, as if nothing was wrong and everything still ran like clockwork.

Filling up the bath.

Stepping in, sitting down.

Somehow, for once, the water was silent, its presence neither comforting nor hostile. Something ugly thrashed about in the pits of his stomach, but he refused to leave the water.

Seven o’clock came and announced itself via the chiming of the grandfather clock in the hallway. He waited. Makoto always came around at 7.15am. He dunked his head into the water and waited.

He waited.

* * *

 

When his air supply finally ran out and he burst out of the water and reflexively stretched his hand out to hold…something, he froze.

His hand, it was empty.

His hand, it would always be empty now. 

_Empty empty empty empty empty empty –_

Tears overflowed and loud, wracking sobs rippled up from his body of gooseflesh as his hand still stretched out, waiting for…someone.    

  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hate me OTL 
> 
> Thanks for reading this till the end! It hasn't been beta-checked since it's already 2:05am here and I'm so tried that my tears didn't bother filling up my eyes already _(:3 」∠)_ But I'll probably come back to edit this soon. 
> 
> /mushrooms away
> 
> EDIT: I realised that I introduced Sousuke too early OTL  
> I forgot that this was still in S1 dammit gomen gomen （ﾉ´д｀） This is what happens when you drop a fic and complete it only a gazillion years later OTL  
> Appropriately replaced him with Mikoshiba! Also cleaned up and edited some of the story too.  
> (+1) I might write a sequel for this. Just sayin'.


End file.
